My apology

I feel that everyone who commented on this post read the first line and assumed the rest. If you would open your minds and read more into the post then the average person would then you would see the real meaning. Seeing as that is hard for some people to do I will take care of that for you. My intentions were not to begin a sub bash rather I was attempting to express my concern. I see the subs floundering everyday, unable to maintain control. Maybe that is why they are subs. I personally enjoy most of the subs that are assigned to my class, one in particular stands out in my mind. Her name is Mrs. Humphrey she was a sub for my writing 12 class. Although she was unable to control the class she was a most enjoyable person to talk to, along with Mrs. Humphrey another substitute I had that same day was Mrs. Huckle. She was just as nice but was still preyed upon by hoodlums who take advantage of any chance at becoming the Alpha. Maybe this post will verify my previous post.

Teaching

I am going to blog about the ineffectiveness of substitute teachers. None of them can establish an alpha role and usually end up grovelling at the feet of the superior students. The classroom belongs to the teacher first, students second, substitutes are a far last. This heirachy makes the position he hardest job in the world. It is even worse than being a janitor at a zoo. The sub does not get the satisfaction of seeing the pupils excel. Rather they assign the students busy work to occupy the time that would otherwise be "wasted."

Most Cherished Object.

My most cherished object is my health... hahahha so cliche. Okay let us get real for a moment. My most cherished object is my laptop computer. It allows me to visit any website that I want and the keys are well placed on the keyboard. It is much unlike this computer that I am forced to work on right now, it is my only freind. The school computer is awkward, and it is impossible to type without getting third degree burns on your wrists. I know that this sounds strange but maybe it is time for change, we should revolt and overturn this government.

I'm sorry, but you have to know the truth. . . . . .
It happens. People die; some from HIV, SARS, erotic asphyxiation or just getting really old. Some of these ways are a little more tragic than others. Many people die just because they are retarded. I remember how I am going to die. It will be a very quick death, hopefully painless. I am going to die in a car wreck, the car will be travelling in excess of 200 miles per hour. After the car has reached this speed I will swerve to the left and send the car flipping through the air. It will be epic. I am so excited

make fun

why would you make fun of someone?

If only you knew the pain and suffering that you are bringing to their doorstep. How would you like it if you were physically handicap, or were part of a diverse culture. People would constantly attack you if you were black or muslim, how can someone with a beard and a turban even live in the "free" world. Stereotypes are ruining the world fueling racist with more ammo to propel at the minorities of the world.


im to pissed to continue

peace yo

Ballin

Yeah...so...scars.

Scars.

Scars.

Scars.

Scars.

Scars.


Oh now I got it. One time I was skippin class... No that one kind of blows. How about the scar I must know live with after using Blogger. Obsolete. Much like windows vista, whats the point. SNOW DAY. Sorry I digress. So back to scars, I have that one on my arm, it is pretty nasty. Yeah I will write about that one. It was a hot summers day, summer of '04 (I love Bryan Adams.) My friend and I decided to skip some school, ohhhhh big shocker.7-11 was our destination, Big Gulps the game. After the slurpee's we decided why not come back to the school, find some friends so we could just chill for the afternoon, what did happen at the school sure was chilling. We have a nice little cage outside of our school four sides are vertical fences and one is a horizontal fence across the top, making for a nice cage home for the contents. We liked to goof around, and the fence looked like a fun one. I went to climb that shit and someone thought it would be wise to push me. The result was not a pretty one. The inside of my arm was on the outside, so gross. So my friend decided to call home, "sorry I am busy call back in 15 minutes."

That was what left the scar not the horrid wound that was now impanted on my arm.